


the coin of mithras

by enkiduu



Category: Da Vinci's Demons
Genre: Hopeful Ending, M/M, Post-Finale, but probably not, if you squint under lunar light you might see some plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-28 23:31:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6350038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enkiduu/pseuds/enkiduu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn't want to believe that Fate is set, like Sisyphus' stone. Leonardo knows there has to be a way. Even now. All he needs to do is go to before.  </p><p>He exhales, running a finger over the coin, and waits for company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the coin of mithras

**Author's Note:**

> damn, i love this pairing so much. i love these characters. i don't want the show to be over :( 
> 
> so...here i am. hi! :)

The destruction that comes after is too painful to watch. Befitting God's work, truly--if Leo is to believe in God at all, he believes in His Almighty's cruelty. 

When Sixtus died--strangled by Riario's bare hands, Leo imagines, because Riario wouldn't settle for anything less than that beautiful irony, the twisted poetic justice--Leo caught a glimpse of hope that things might actually get better. That maybe Riario's choice would set Italy on a righteous path, off the corruption that's torn humanity apart since the dawn of their existence. 

Killing his father was the choice that defined Riario, and tragically, the only choice Leo thinks Riario ever made without somebody influencing him, be it Sixtus or the Labyrinth. Even when seeking death, Riario had failed. 

Leo never thought idealism a fault of his, yet here he is, returning alone (there is nobody to come with him) in his Florentine workshop. Expecting Riario to greet him with words and not swords. 

It's quiet and intact, the workshop: waiting for Leo silently and full of dread, neither of which surprises him. 

This silence is what has been tormenting Leo ever since--well. He shuts his eyes before glancing down at the coin in his fingers. It gleams under the light, bright like all-consuming flames. 

People whisper reverently and fearfully of the avenging angel by Pope Innocent's side, god's glorious executioner. In Riario's wake, sinners have been dropping dead in the, well, who the hell knows. Leo hasn't been counting. He hopes the Count doesn't, for sanity's sake. 

Who's he kidding? Sanity? Leo shakes his head. There is no sanity left.

Riario has gone too far on the purifying the world path. The thought of Florence makes Leo grit his teeth with fury directed at both Riario and himself. Florence is neither free nor flourishing. The Medici have fallen, and with them, the spirit and soul of the city.

(With them, Leo feels what's left of his heart broken.) 

" _Artista_ ," Riario greets, with his hauntingly raspy voice that haunts Leo for all the wrong reasons. The one voice Leo cannot shut out of his mind, even past the drugs. Maybe it's because everywhere Leo goes, he's reminded of Riario and what he's done. What he's still doing. 

Leo pockets his coin and turns around slowly. Riario is clad in black, as if he's always mourning and unable to move forward, lost in the darkness. He _is_ the darkness, Leo thinks.

A smile spreads across Riario's face and his lips part. He seems genuinely happy to see Leo again. 

Leo swallows and tries to remember he should hate Riario (again). But that thought is bitter, displaced by the rather irrational desire to see Riario happy for once. 

And right now? It's not even close. Riario still walks with burden on his shoulders and blind faith in his eyes that makes him close his eyes to his own cruelty. Then again, the Enemies of Man did create the perfect device for their goals. 

"Count," Leo echoes.

They've spoken these words before, in what feels like a lifetime ago. How the circumstances have changed. 

(Everything's changed.)

"Should I be honored that the great Leonardo da Vinci has finally graced me with his presence?" 

"No. Not at all. After all, it must be so difficult to ask for an audience with the Messenger of God."

Riario's smile turns almost tentative, even if his voice does not. His dark eyes gaze at Leo with such intensity. "Ah. Of course. You disapprove of my choices."

"Yes, but maybe all those French soldiers occupying Florence can convince me otherwise!" Leo's lips curve down.  

Never did he imagine  _France_ taking control of Italy. Everything is a bloody mess, and Leo hasn't been able to do anything but watch as his beloved Florence...taken by Swiss mercenaries for the fucking French crown. 

And who is to blame? Who the _fuck_ is it to blame?

Leo, for trusting a man who barely trusted himself? Who had to rely on everybody else to give him a purpose? Who's become the Enemies of Man's _Minotaur_ , destroying what Leo thought he could save? 

"But do you not see--?"

"No," Leo interrupts angrily. "Please, don't force open my eyes with your visions again."

Riario's expression flashes with hurt and pain, which is entirely unfair because it makes Leo feel guilty. "My actions are only directed by God, da Vinci. Not anybody else. I act alone." 

Leo shuts his eyes and groans, frustrated. He came here not for this. "I know! I know. I don't intend to control you."

Riario smiles briefly. "Yes, the only man who never wanted to," he mused. "Then why have you come? Not to say you are unwelcome. You have always been welcome by my side."

Leo's anger falters. He stares at Riario, who stares back unflinchingly.

(Nothing has changed. At the end, it's just the two of them, and two choices. Together, but they decide whether as enemies or...)

 _Or_. 

Who's to say there are only two paths, two endings: success and failure? Al-Rahim had always been the storyteller who guided Leo with his woven lies. 

So now, then. Now.

"If you had the chance to start over," Leo says abruptly, "would you?" 

"I wouldn't have thought you a man to dwell on past regrets," Riario says, wary.

"Yes, well." Leo laughs, a sharp, mirthless laugh. "A lot of things have happened in the past few years." 

"There is much I would change, _Artista_. Much unnecessary loss. You know that," he says, almost accusingly. "Why do you ask?" 

"I..." This man is lost, though who is Leo to judge? 

Who is Leo to play God, when he hates how Riario plays God's angel?

Leo doesn't believe in God. But he thinks...maybe, if he tries hard enough, anything is possible. He can fix everything, now that he knows, understands. 

"I just wish things turned out differently. Better." Leo smiles. "If only I had said yes." 

Beside him, a coin is spinning spinning spinning. 

It will be better this time.

The coin falls, and Leo steps into the River of Time. 

(Never the same man, never the same river; but that also means he can find a better ending for them.)

 

 


End file.
